Part journal, part nonsense, part sublime inspiration, wholly Faith-ful

Would you like a little milk with that cereal?

I don’t care much for cereal. Every now and again I’ll enjoy a bowl of some sickeningly sweet cereal as a late dinner or snack, but I tend to get queasy if I have it for breakfast. And note the part where I said “sickeningly sweet.” That means I like things like the Oreo cereal, or Honey Bunches of Oats, or Froot Loops, or Golden Grahams. Things like that. Honey Smacks. You know. And although I enjoy the occasional bowl of Fruity Pebbles or, preferably, Cocoa Pebbles, I’ve never been one for Rice Krispies.

Which makes the constant snap, crackle, and pop in my ears all the more annoying. It doesn’t make me think of a yummy breakfast treat. It makes me think of the chubby blonde girl on the bus when I was in 9th grade. Nobody wanted to sit next to her, and she smelled like soggy Rice Krispies. And it makes me think of a bowl of soggy cereal. I mean, the whole point of Rice Krispies is that they make that crackling noise, so why must they get so quickly sodden? I cannot abide soggy cereal. I have to throw it out. That may be one of the reasons that I like Grape Nuts, even though they’re nothing like grapes or nuts, and they’re not sickeningly sweet, but they’re very satisfyingly crunchy.

The ears have been making this horrible noice, accompanied by occasional severe pain, for over 3 months now. I finally got an appointment with a specialist, and I’m going to see him at 4:00 this afternoon.

Some people actually celebrate their birthdays. They take off from work, sleep late, go to the movie, have a nice dinner out. Me? I work all day, go to the doctor’s office, and then get to go to the DMV and renew my driver’s license. See, I wear corrective lenses, so I have to prove that I can actually see. I will also tell you that the spam e-mails I get from various internet sites, where they don’t know me from Adam, wishing me a “Happy 45th Birthday!” are somewhat–okay, a lot–annoying. Up to 21, sure, wish me a numerical birthday. After 80, sure, wish me a numerical birthday. And it’s not like I’m ashamed of my age; I’m not. I just don’t feel the need to place a button on my chest that reads, “Hi! I’m 45 today! Ask me if you want to know more!”

So next time you eat a bowl of Rice Krispies, think of me. And then throw them out and replace them with something tasty.

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Feel free to email me at chauceriangirl(at) gmail (dot) com, if you'd like to say something but don't feel like leaving a comment on the blog.

"You can get sympathy or you can get better, but you can't get both. You can be in your comfort zone or you can have growth, but you can't have both. You can be interested or you can be sold-out committed, but you can't entertain both. You can have excuses or have results, but you can't do both. Choose the path that develops your visceral fortitude." ---Mario Cortes

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